Page 101 of Terms of Exposure
Two sets of dark eyes swiveled toward me in perfect unison.
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.Oh, this was too good.
"Keep going," Sebastian prompted.
I glanced at Damien. He was trying—and failing spectacularly—to look disinterested. The flicker in his expression and gape of his mouth betraying him completely.
Oh, this is going to be fun.
"We were thirteen," I continued, leaning back in my chair like I was settling in for a long story. "The camp bathrooms were in this creepy old building at the edge of the woods. No lights after ten. We were terrified to go alone."
Sebastian nodded eagerly. "Understandable. Continue."
"So we'd go together. Hold hands on the walk over. Keep watch for each other." I sighed wistfully. "There was this one night—a thunderstorm knocked the power out. We had to shower in complete darkness."
Damien's throat bobbed, eyes glazing over.
"Just the two of us," I added. "All that steam. Soap suds everywhere. Emma dropped the shampoo bottle and we both screamed, grabbing onto each other..."
Sebastian was leaning forward now, puzzle completely forgotten.
"And then," I said, dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "With water dripping down her body we—"
"Okay. That's enough." Damien's words came out strangled.
Sebastian and I burst out laughing.
"You're a monster." Sebastian laughed. "An actual monster."
"You should see your faces." I wiped a tear from my eye.
Damien scrubbed a hand over the neatly kept scruff on his jaw, cheeks tinged pink. "You're as bad as he is."
"Worse," I corrected cheerfully. "I'm worse."
Sebastian chuckled, then turned to Damien with an expression of pure innocence.
"Speaking of Emma—I've been meaning to ask." He paused, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "How is she in bed?"
The room went dead silent.
Damien's left eyelid twitched. "What did you just say?"
"You heard me." Sebastian shrugged like he'd asked about the weather. "I'm curious. She seems like she'd be a wildcat. Am I right? I'm right, aren't I?"
"I will smother you with that pillow."
"What?" Sebastian threw his hands up, the picture of wounded innocence. "Isn't this what brothers are supposed to talk about? Locker room stuff? Male bonding?"
"We have never once talked about this."
"Well, maybe that's our problem. Maybe if we'd communicated more openly about our sexual experiences, I wouldn't have ended up in a coma."
Damien stared at him. "That logic makes absolutely no sense."
"Doesn't it though?" Sebastian tapped his temple. "Think about it."
"I'm not thinking about it. I'm thinking about how easy it would be to unplug one of these machines."
